Seasonal seduction
While draining the last of the summer rosé, Jonathan Ray turns his attention to some digestifs for darker days
SADLY, summer is nearing its end. If the past few weeks have been all about ice-cold rosé, fine fizz, Pimm’s (the vodka-based Pimm’s No.6 being my favourite) and cocktails, then the next few weeks, as we head into autumn and then, sigh, winter, are all about liqueurs, digestifs and tongue-tingling treats to linger over after shirt-popping lunches or dinners.
In preparation for this seasonal switch in my drinking habits, I’ve been clearing out my cellar (aka the cobwebbed cupboard under the stairs). There are still a few magnums of rosé – which I’m sure will get knocked back during our Indian summer – and the dozen or so bottles of Prosecco, too, will inevitably find a home. Happily, this will free up some badly needed shelf and rack space.
Don’t laugh, but I’ll start by getting in some Baileys Irish Cream, which my wife professes to hate but secretly loves. And she’s clearly not alone for it’s the single bestselling liqueur brand in the world. It’s an extraordinary drink, created in 1974 after the then-owners, Grand Metropolitan, decided to develop an export brand to emulate the popularity of the whiskey liqueur Irish Mist. Given that Grand Met owned both the spirits firm, W&A Gilbey & Co, and Express Dairies, some bright sparks came up with the idea of combining the two giving it the fictitious name of R&A Bailey.
It’s made from just fresh cream, triple pot-still distilled Irish whiskey, neutral white spirit, vanilla, chocolate and sugar and – scoff ye not – it makes a very fine end to the meal for those with a sweet tooth, especially if you’ve forgotten to lay on any pudding. Look, you don’t have to drink it yourself but I guarantee that you will have guests over who will lap it up. At the very least you can pour it over ice-cream.
Besides, if you don’t like Baileys you might well like the alarmingly moreish Patrón XO Café Tequila Coffee Liqueur. Made in Mexico – natch – it’s top-quality tequila infused with fine coffee essence. It’s like drinking cold espresso with a fearsome kick at the end. And unlike Tia Maria, say, or Kahlúa, which I find far too sweet, there’s a welcome dryness to it. And, goodness, it’s addictive. I love it, so much so that I have never been able to stick to just the one post-prandial glass and, as I survey my blood-shot eyes next morning in the bathroom mirror, I always vow to avoid overdoing it in future. But the minute I hear the Patrón XO siren call, I’m smitten again…
Equally delicious and slightly less dangerous is the brand spanking new Cointreau Blood Orange. This is a twist on the original Cointreau with aromatic Corsican blood oranges added to the signature sweet and bitter oranges, the peels of which are distilled together to give a zesty, mouth-filling treat. Enjoy it on its own over ice at the end of a meal or turn it into a so-called Cointreau Rouge by mixing it half and half with cranberry juice and serving over ice in a large wine glass. Yum!
More conventionally, I will be sure to stock up on kummel, a digestif that I adore. They call it grown-ups’ gripe water thanks to its caraway-seed flavour and soothing properties. Mentzendorff is my brand of choice, although Wolfschmidt will do in extremis.
Oh, and I’ll need some calvados, too. The best I’ve had by far is the recent addition to the Berry Bros & Rudd own-label range. Made in Normandy by Maison Lecompte, it is crammed full of crunchy ripe apple backed by vanilla, caramel and faint toffee notes. It’s absolutely gorgeous and makes a fascinating alternative to cognac, Armagnac or single malt.
And staying in France, I cannot recommend the eaux de vie of Alsace highly enough. I adore the region’s wines and can bang on about them indefinitely. What I always forget until I go there is how much I enjoy its spirits, too.
They distil all manner of fruit there, producing exceptional, headily scented, colourless spirits that make wonderful digestifs. If you’ve not had mirabelle or quetsch (both plum), coing (quince), framboise (raspberry), fraise (strawberry) or poire william (pear) you’re in for a real treat.
My absolute favourite is the eau de vie de poire Williams from Jean-paul Metté in Ribeauvillé. I came across it only a few weeks ago when I was last in Alsace and it knocked my socks off. Just pour out a glass and you are assailed by the most striking aromas of ripe pear. It took me back to boyhood trips to my neighbour’s orchard and eating ripe pears straight from the tree, the sticky juice running down my chin and arms.
It’s a stunning spirit for sure and while everyone else tucks into the Baileys, I’ll be tucking into this.
I vow to avoid overdoing it but the minute I hear the Patrón XO siren call, I’m smitten again